


Pale/Red

by HorseSteppin



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Modification, Bulges and Nooks, F/M, M/M, Mild chucklevoodoos, Mouth stitches, Multi, Nervous consent becomes enthusiastic, Polyamory Negotiations, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 14:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15293532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorseSteppin/pseuds/HorseSteppin
Summary: Thought it would be good for him, she said. Knew how he was still in dire straits over his breakup, and what better way to get back out there than having your moirail with you each step of the way. Be that as it may, he still wasn't sure if a moirail should be present for what he intended to do -- with her matesprit, no less. Good grief.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RadioMoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioMoth/gifts).



> Hey yo hope Meu<>Horuss<3Kurloz<3Meu is okay for the fill. This normally isn't something I'd do but it was an interesting challenge, to say the least! :)

Meenah's 69th-and-a-half Wriggling Day party was, as the many before it, absolutely off the hook - her words.

The fact it was her 69th 1/2 were, also, her words. Trying to categorize the passage of time in days, seconds, sweeps, years, or whatever else, was according to her and indeed most dreambubble residents, 'pointless as shit.' All she knew is she had been here for what felt like eternity already, and every wriggling day party she threw, she attached some arbitrary number, usually one she found funny, and had them slightly more frequently than she would if she were still alive. 

Meulin had, many times, tried to convince her of a 33rd Wriggling Day, but so far, no bites. Maybe next time!

Numbering aside, Meenah's parties were always great fun, and Meulin never left them without a smile on her face. They were usually open-hive, too, so all sorts of guests, troll and human alike, would often show up! Meeting new people, even if they were just alternate versions of trolls you already knew, or funny hornless aliens, was always good. Not to mention the shipping oppurrtunities!

The party was in its end stages, with people excusing themselves to return to wherever they called home, the dance floor clearing, and not a crumb left of the frankly obscene amount of cake. Meulin, having danced herself silly and sweaty, flopped down on one of the nearby lounge planks - 'couch' as the humans had called it - and laid herself across Kurloz's lap.

"Whew! I'm beat." She said, smiling up at Kurloz, "Did you see my sick mewves? I think I gave Purrim a run for her money!"

Kurloz smiled down at her, signing 'YOU SURE THE FUCK DID, AND I THINK SHE LIKED IT.'

Meulin giggled, hiding her face in her hands as it flushed warm and olive, "Oh, do you think so? She's so cool and pretty, I admit I might have thought about it, but --" Inspiration struck more like a wrecking ball than a bolt of lightning as Meulin tumbled off Kurloz's lap to the floor, before scrambling back up to sit beside him.

"Oh, oh! Kurloz, do you think, maybe...?" She looked up at him, big blank kitty cat eyes full of hope. Kurloz simply shrugged, however.

'EH,' He signed, looking off to the side, 'SHE'S ALRIGHT.'

Meulin pulled a face - Porrim was certainly much better than 'alright!' Of course, leave it to Kurloz to be one of the few immune to her natural charm and sick ink. 

"Okay then, Mister Contradictpurry, who here would you consider more than 'alright?'" She settled back into the couch, crossing her arms, looking between the party stragglers and her 'boyfriend', as the humans had called him.

Kurloz looked thoughtful a moment, going so far as to tap his chin as he looked over the guests, like this was a life or death choice that required careful consideration. It got a laugh out of Meulin, though, which she figured was probably the point.

'WHAT ABOUT LIL RED?'

"Kankri?" Meulin giggled again, shoving Kurloz in the shoulder for being such kitter, but when the other shoe doesn't fall, she blinked, smile dropping from her face, "Oh, you were serious?"

'YEAH,' Kurloz's signing became more languid as he went on, smirk tugging at stitched lips, 'KINDA WANNA SEE WHAT HE'S GOT GOIN' ON UNDER THAT GIGANTIC FUCKING SWEATER."

"I think it's just more pants, honestly." Still, Kankri was pretty cute, and she was a little more open to the idea after learning of her Alternian self. It had worked out for her, hadn't it? Mostly? She looked out toward the crowd, eyes falling on Kankri - he wasn't hard to miss, being a big red blotch in a sea of people. He was talking to a couple of the humans, though a bit too fast for her lip-reading skills to be effective. Halfway through what was surely a riveting conversation, his eyes drift toward Meulin and Kurloz. His lips slowly came to a standstill; looked like he was excusing himself from his new friends? Before Meulin could pounce, however, Kankri already had a nearby window lifted open. He stepped one leg out, and as he straddled the sil, he shook his head at the two of them, before absconding out it entirely.

Huh.

'WELL THAT DIDN'T PAN THE FUCK OUT,' Kurloz turned to Meulin, 'WHAT SAY YOU, KITTYBITCH?'

It was Meulin's turn to press a hand to her chin, eyes narrowing like she was on the hunt for prey, as she once again scanned the crowd. 

"Oh!" She bounced in her seat a bit, "Would you consider, purrchance, Meenah? It is her wriggling, after all!"

Kurloz just laughed, again, muffled by his stitches, as he signed in response, 'I BELIEVE THE LAST THING THE FALSE IDOL WOULD WISH FOR ON THIS MOST JOYOUS OF OCCASIONS WOULD BE THE AMOROUSLY RED INTENTIONS OF A CLOWN SHE DON'T EVEN MOTHERFUCKIN' LIKE THAT MUCH.'

Meulin blinked. False idol? 

"Huh?"

'DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. MY TURN.'

"Oh, okay!" And just like that, Meulin was all smiles as she waited to see just who Kurloz would pick next. He gazed into the crowd, though he seemed to be staring into something - or someone - in particular. There was no extravagant flourish, no tapping the chin or false contemplation. His mouth made a motion like he'd lick his lips, if he had his tongue instead of stitches. He stayed like that, occasionally glancing over at Meulin in a way you could really only tell if you'd spent a long time around blank eyes. Meulin's brow furrowed as her concern began to grow - what in the world was he even looking at?

Before she could voice these concerns, however, Kurloz's bony fingers are signing without even turning his head toward her.

'I WANT HIM.' There was a finality to it that there hadn't been before, emphasized as Kurloz pointed toward the furthest corner of the room. Meulin's gaze followed from his index finger, through the crowd, passed refreshment tables and speakers and party games that mostly involved soporifics, before landing, finally, on the darkest little corner she ever did see.

"Horuss?" She said, voice pitched with surprise.

'YES.'

"Hmmm, I dunno, Kurloz..." She pressed a hand to her chin, chewing on the inside of her cheek, "I mean, he's my moirail, and while I'm open to a little quadrant smearing, I don't know if I want that with him, you know?"

Kurloz pursed his lips, which was impressive all things considered. His response was not immediate, which left Meulin with the impression this might have been something he was really thinking hard about.

'I AM GOING TO SHOOT STRAIGHT WITH YOU,' He signed, not even a little humor in his face, smile nowhere to be found, 'I HAVE BEEN JONESING FOR PONYBRO'S BULGE FOR SOME FUCKING TIME NOW. I COULD PURSUE HIM ALONE, IF THAT'S COOL.'

"I -- Oh." Meulin was a bit blindsided here. She thought she had her finger on the pulse of all the romantic goings-ons in the dreambubbles - especially when it came to her own matesprit. Was she surprised? Maybe. Her moirail was quite a catch, of course, but she wouldn't have pegged Kurloz as the cat hanging at the waters edge, so to speak. 

"I still don't know, I mean --" She sighed, running a hand through her damp hair, "He's in a really tender place right meow! I know he and Rufioh broke up awhile ago, but he's still purrocessing it. He's not one to do one-night stands at the best of times, let alone when he's in such a state."

And what a state it was! Horuss couldn't even muster up the strength to smile anymore, despite Meulin's best efforts. Nothing she did could pull him from his doldrums, and it wasn't for lack of trying. She'd tried everything; talking about hoofbeasts, asking him about any new inventions, more than a million feelings jams, and attempts to get him to go out and mingle - which was why Horuss was here at all. If left to his own devices, he would've been off sulking in some bubble somewhere, much like he was sulking in that corner, grumpier than ever. 

A part of her wondered if she could even help him - it certainly appeared impossible, on her own. Horuss was large, strong presence, not just in appearance but with his emotions, and sometimes he could be a bit much for just one troll to handle. Meulin wouldn't dream of giving up on him though, not when he needed her more than ever! But maybe, if she had a little help - if /Horuss/ had a little help...

Kurloz looked like he was about to sign something, when Meulin placed her hand on his.

"I think," She said, her smile slowly returning as inspiration swelled in her pusher, "I just might have an idea that could fix all our purroblems!"


	2. Chapter 2

Horuss couldn't tell you, exactly, why he'd agreed to this.

He had been present for one of the dead heiress' many, *many* parties. Present, not participating. In truth, he had been dragged there by Meulin as a way to 'get him out of the hive' after... after certain events, in his life/death. The gesture was appreciated, but Horuss never had been one for parties - at least not ones like that, with countless guests all crammed into one hive and music blaring so loud that he couldn't hear himself think, let alone what anyone was saying. Not that he had been particularly social at the time, anyways; truthfully, he had just wanted to be left alone with his grief, but he also didn't want to disappoint Meulin. So, he figured he was at least safe to play the part of the wallflower and grit his teeth until his moirail decided it was time to go. 

More the fool he for not expecting Meulin to have yet another plan up her sleeve.

The proposition - and that is exactly what it was, in every sense of the word - had Horuss shocked to his core. He was quick to explain that he did not wish to play the 'other troll' again, after learning his lesson the first time. Meulin simply said that, since she knew beforehand and especially since Horuss was her moirail, that it was 'totally cool.' That she wouldn't 'fly off the handle and paralyze anybody' which, frankly, Horuss wasn't sure if he appreciated the joke about a mortifying time in both his and his ex's lives. 

He'd also argued that, true as that may be, the concept of one troll having two people in the same quadrant seemed bizarre to him. Which was the polite way to put it - he had actually wanted to say it spit in the eye of everything he held dear. Meulin, again, insisted it wasn't that strange, and that it needn't go that far. That this could just be a one-time situation, and if Horuss wanted to do it again or felt anything for Kurloz, then that was fine, too. She may have seemed pushy, but she had assured Horuss he could say 'no' then and there, and that'd be it. That he could back out at any time, and nobody would speak of it again. She was simply answering his questions and concerns. 

Thought it would be good for him, she said. Knew how he was still in dire straits over his breakup, and what better way to get back out there than having your moirail with you each step of the way. Be that as it may, he still wasn't sure if a moirail should be present for what he intended to do -- with her matesprit, no less. Good grief.

Even so, he'd be lying if he said the whole idea wasn't, perhaps, just ever so slightly, mildly, somewhat, kind of appealing. In its own way. While it still felt strange looking at another troll in such a way, Horuss couldn't deny that Kurloz was handsome. Perhaps not to everyones tastes, certainly; the man was thin with little muscle to speak of, although this did not stop him from exhibiting a strange amount of strength. That was fine; despite what some may think, Horuss never expected his partners to be as absurdly shredded as he was. What he had always found most charming about Kurloz, however, was his long face and gentle eyes. 

So, despite every fibre of his being and a million voices calling out from the void telling him this was a bad move, he agreed.

Which was how he'd ended up here, sitting between Kurloz and Meulin on the couch, while they all watched incomprehensible human films. It wasn't an uncomfortable setup, he supposed, with Meulin's warmth pressed against one side of him and Kurloz keeping a respectful distance, other than his hand overlapping Horuss' own on the couch cushion. Still, there was just something about it that left Horuss on edge; his pusher hadn't stopped hammering since he got here. He jumped at every odd noise, which Meulin was quick to calm him down from.

In a lot of ways, it reminded him of a very long time ago, when he was young and stupid. Going into woods he had no right being in, pulse quickening and sweat tickling his brow because he knew he was somewhere he wasn't meant to be. As if anyone could catch him in the act at any point, could expose him just so *easily*. Which had been exactly what happened, but this time was different. It had to be.

It was about halfway through the film the Kurloz became any sort of bold. He sidled up to Horuss' side, resting his head on his shoulder. How he managed to avoid goring Horuss' head with his long horns was an art form. From here, Horuss could smell what hair products Kurloz did or didn't use - there was a strong possibility it was just old Faygo and special stardust. It wasn't unpleasant, though, and even if it had been, Horuss found the newfound proximity far more pressing than anything else. He willed himself to relax, telling himself that nothing bad was going to happen just because he was cuddling, for goodness sake. In fact, he found it kind of nice.

Kurloz's hand on his thigh had him bolting upright.

"I'll be right back." He wasn't sure if that was true, but he absconded to the nearest room that wasn't the respiteblock - the ablution chamber, in this case. He flicked on the lights and shut the door behind him. He stabilized himself on the sink, leaning into it as he pulled his headgear off and to the side. Sweat trickled down his face; disgusting. He ran a towel over it, but knew it wouldn't help, it wasn't going to stop. His nerves were fired up and the part of him still loyal to his ex told him to leave, to get out of here. To throw up a little, maybe. He knew that Meulin and Kurloz would let him leave, if he really wanted to.

And did he want to?

A little bit, but not for anything they had done. His moirail was as sweet as ever, and Kurloz, although increasingly bold, hadn't been particularly pushy. Nothing was happening that hadn't been discussed, and in any other situation he could've handled it. If that situation involved Rufioh and himself, that was. He knew he shouldn't be thinking of him, especially not during this 'date' of sorts, but he couldn't help it. If he could, he would, but he can't. He still wanted Rufioh back more than anything, and what was worse, Rufioh hadn't the decency to be mean about the breakup. Even while he broke Horuss' heart, he had nothing but good things to say about him, and things ended as amicably as they could. In a strange way, this would've been so much easier if Rufioh had been cruel, had left Horuss angry and looking to stick it to him, but no. He couldn't even have that.

A knock at the door left Horuss jumping, grip tightening on the sink. It cracked under his hands.

"Horuss?" It was Meulin, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Even muffled through the door, there was no mistaking the concern in her voice, "I'm here if you need to talk! Remember what we said about discussing your feelings?"

Of course he remembered. They spoke of it often, the 'impurrtance' of saying what you really felt, even if it was hard sometimes. Most times. All the time, if you were Horuss. Half of him wanted to tell her to go away and just give him some breathing room. The other half knew that anything worth doing was rarely easy. This whole situation, moving on from Rufioh, even if it meant diving in head first into something new and terrifying, was far from easy. Did that mean it was worth doing? 

He wasn't sure, but he opened the door all the same.

"There you are!" Meulin said, smiling up at him, "How are you feeling?"

"I..." Horuss moved to adjust his goggles, grasping at nothing before realizing they were removed, "I'm just nervous, I suppose. Extremely so," Here, he cracked half a smirk, but one entirely mirthless, "Silly, isn't it?"

Meulin's mane swished as she shook her head emphatically, "No! It's not silly at all. Look," She sighed, shoulders sagging, crestfallen, "Maybe this was a bad idea, on my end. I'm sorry if you felt pushed into this, we can just --"

"No."

"What?" Meulin blinked.

Horuss was also surprised at his own interjection, but he couldn't let it hang in the air like that, nor let Meulin believe she had messed up entirely, "While it is true this is going at quite a clip, and I am naturally quite anxious, I --" He swallowed, cheeks going blue as he forced himself to voice what he really felt, "I want to be here. And I want you to be here! You were right; having my moirail by my side is just what I needed for this endeavor."

This seemed to perk Meulin up, smile returning to her face with a giggle, "I'm glad to hear that! But are you sure you're not just doing this for my sake?"

Horuss shook his head, "Not just for your sake, no. I'm not doing anything I do not wish to be," He chewed at the inside of his cheek, blank eyes avoiding looking at Meulin, "I'm just feeling a bit... skittish, is all."

Meulin gave a thoughtful hum as she crossed her arms, hand on her chin as she looked Horuss up and down. She had a look like she was planning something, "So you really want to go through with this, right?"

"Yes, like I've said." Horuss nodded.

"How far do you want it to go?" She asked.

Horuss' head must have looked like a blueberry with how much he was blushing, but his voice was even as he spoke, "Wherever the night goes, I suppose."

Meulin nodded this time, "I see. Playing it by ear. That works, but please say something if you ever get uncomfurtable, okay?"

"I will." He said, and with his hand in hers, the two returned to the couch.

The television had been switched off, and Kurloz was just where Horuss had left him. The highblood smiled as he entered the room, and was quick to beckon Horuss over, patting the spot next to him. Horuss took the offered seat, with Meulin beside him once more. The embarrassment at running off like he had is just another drop in the ocean at this point. There was something strangely freeing in knowing he would not stop being an anxious mess.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Kurloz," He said, running a hand through his own bangs, "I hope I didn't make things awkward."

Kurloz simply shook his head before signing, 'YOU GOOD?'

"Yes I am, thank you," Horuss signed back as he spoke out of habit, even though he knew Kurloz could hear him perfectly well.

'THAT'S COOL. YEAH, IF YOU WANTED OUT, ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS SAY SO, MY COMITRAGIC BLUE BRO.'

"It's not so much that I wanted out, per se," Horuss mulled it over in his head - how best to put it? Even he wasn't quite sure how to describe it himself, and he was the one feeling it,"One problem I am having is I am simply... out of practice, with this sort of thing."

Kurloz gave a few slow nods in response, 'YEAH I MOTHERFUCKING FIGURED. THAT'S FINE THOUGH. QUESTION IS, HOW YOU WANT TO GO ABOUT DOING THIS SHIT?" 

Meulin perked up beside Horuss, raising her hand as if she were being called on by a teacher, "Ooh, ooh! I got an idea! What if you let Horuss touch you instead, Kurloz?"

'THAT IS AN EXCELLENT FUCKING SUGGESTION, SIS," Kurloz signed, smiling like the stitches themselves kept it in place, 'COME FEEL ME UP, HORUSS.'

"I'm sorry - what?" Horuss' head whipped back and forth as he looked at both of them like they'd each grown a second cranium, "Won't I hurt him? I don't have my destrengthening gloves, and while it's true I have mostly tamed my ludicrous strength, I still don't know if --"

Kurloz put a hand on his shoulder, and he didn't need to sign a thing for the message to ring loud and clear: 'relax, bro.'

"Don't worry, Horuss!" Meulin said, waving off the issue like it was nothing, "We trust you not to hurt him, and besides, Kurloz is a lot tougher than he looks!"

'I SURE THE FUCK AM,' Here, Kurloz's shoulders shook like he might have been laughing, 'I MEAN WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, DOUBLE KILL ME? I AM A MOTHERFUCKING SPECTER.'

Meulin and Kurloz shared a good chuckle over that, but Horuss still wasn't so sure. It's not that he was opposed to touching Kurloz - quite the opposite, really - but the last thing this night needed was grievous physical injury. Just his opinion. 

"Well," Horuss began, "If you're certain..."

Kurloz simply waggled his eyebrows and spread his arms, inviting Horuss to 'bring it in', as he might say. Not one to turn down an invitation, Horuss reached out a bit stiffly, hands falling on Kurloz's hips. Horuss flinched like he'd been struck, preparing himself for piercing screams and crunching bones. When he opened his eyes, Kurloz had his usual placid grin, and a fully intact pelvis. Alright. So far so good. Horuss let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Feel up his sides," Meulin suggested from behind, leaning into Horuss' back, presumably to get an eyeful, "He likes that."

"Very well." Horuss did as instructed, hands running over Kurloz's hip bones and over his sides. This earned him a small arch out of Kurloz, hips rolling as he was felt up. His skin was cool even through the thin fabric of his costume, as Horuss ran his hands over his ribs - there was no pretending this was anyone but the highblood himself. Kurloz was so different from who he was used to; it was strange, and a part of him still wanted to leave right now, but his curiosity got the better of him in the end. 

They stayed like that, for awhile, with Horuss simply touching Kurloz wherever he could reach, to his apparent approval. Meulin would occasionally pipe in with suggestions with where to feel him next, and Horuss would answer, but she largely left him to his own devices. He hadn't risked going any lower than his hips, however, but it seemed he didn't need to; before long, Kurloz was a squirming mess under his hands as they ran over his chest, his waist, a finger delicately trailing up his neck and over the shell of one long, pointed ear. His grin never faltered; encouraging. The pleased, keening noises Horuss pulled from him from mere touch alone; even moreso. 

Kurloz grew weary of being a passive participant however; after a point, he simply crawled into Horuss' lap, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders. Horuss swallowed as he was kissed, the stitches coarse on his lips but not unpleasantly so; a welcome juxtposition against the softness of Kurloz's mouth. His pusher was skyrocketing, nerves threatening to rear their ugly head again, when he felt Meulin nuzzling the back of his neck.

"It's okay," She whispered, "You're doing great."

His pulse slowed down to something like normal, though not by much; he still had a lapful of suddenly very naked highblood. Kurloz must have gotten a kick out of whatever expression he pulled, laughing into the kiss, before Horuss remembered they were dead, and this was basically one very odd dream. If Kurloz willed himself to be naked, then so he was, simple as that. Convenient, he supposed.

The kiss was chaste by default, but that did not stop Kurloz from putting everything he had into it. He seemed to favor slow, repeated pecks, his mouth just that much more barren each time he pulled back. Horuss could taste the grease paint, but found he didn't mind. There was something kind of pleasantly repulsive about it, even.

"Try sucking his bottom lip." Meulin said, casual as anything, as she played with Horuss' ponytail, as if she were suggesting a move to pull in a video game and not how to please her matesprit.

With the support of his moirail, Horuss did just that. He leaned in, catching Kurloz's lower lip between his own, and sucked. Kurloz shuddered in his lap, his thin fingers digging into his shoulders as a sound deeper than Kurloz should be capable of rumbled through him. The highblood ground down, then, pressing himself onto Horuss' crotch. He gasped at the pressure, somehow entirely unprepared for it, despite everything. The fabric of his pants was somewhat less thick than that of his coat; he could *just* feel the cold slickness of Kurloz on him.

Horuss pulled away to look down in between them. The highblood had completely unsheathed, at some point, royal purple bulge writhing languid between them. Kurloz was laughing at him again, and Horuss could not blame him as he stared at the thing with wide blank eyes. It was impressively sized, certainly but what truly shocked him was that it was... out. At all. For him, *because* of him. Despite the shortcomings in their relationship, Horuss and Rufioh had enjoyed a rather active sex life, even toward the end - but it had been a long time since they'd split up. A long time since he'd seen anyone's bulge, the scent of arousal thick in the air and in the back of his throat. As if a dam had broke, Horuss' own bulge unsheathed in his pants, sweeps of desire dampened by his own malaise and foolish dedication finally breaking through. 

Kurloz gave him a knowing look and a wink.

'HEY,' He signed to Horuss, 'MIND IF I TAKE THIS PONY FOR A MOTHERFUCKING RIDE OR WHAT?'

"Please." Horuss said far too quickly; Meulin and Kurloz chuckled on either side of him. 

'ALRIGHT COOL. THEN YOU JUST LAY THE FUCK BACK, AND I'LL HANDLE THE REST.'

They shifted some, then, until Horuss was on his back, head resting in Meulin's lap as Kurloz straddled his thighs. Horuss shuddered as Kurloz' nimble hands worked his regrettably complicated fly open; he was really going to do this. Pailing with not only a new troll, but with his moirail right here with him. That part, at least, was far more comforting than he expected it to be; any time Meulin saw him getting nervous, his eyes flicking around the room or his hands shaking, she was there with a shush or a gentle touch. She ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, even now, smiling down at him so serenely they might as well have been in the middle of a feelings jam instead of - well. This.

Eventually, Kurloz managed to work Horuss' bulge free, shifted his pants until they were around his thighs. Horuss' breath came in sharp bursts, before Kurloz had so much as touched him. This was really happening, he was really doing this. It was like a whirlwind, ever since he sat back down on the couch; were they moving too fast? Was this normal? Nothing about this was normal, he supposed, yet even with Kurloz reaching for him, Horuss still had apprehensions.

Apprehensions that near instantly melt away as Kurloz wrapped a hand around his base and squeezed.

Horuss choked on a breath, back arching as his fingers dug into the couch, shredding it. Meulin stroked his forehead, dabbing away sweat with her sleeve, as Kurloz continued to play with his bulge. It wrapped around his thin wrist, and Horuss had to will it away from tightening too much. Kurloz, as ever, seemed more amused than anything. Maybe the thought of an arm broken by runaway bulge was funny to him, but Horuss was mortified enough that he re-sheathed just a bit. 

Kurloz must have picked up on that, because next thing he knew, the highblood released his bulge and moved to straddle his waist proper. His nook was *just* out of reach of his writhing bulge, dripping down onto him, as Kurloz signed, fingers sticky with indigo. 

'YOU READY MAN?'

"Yes." Horuss said, breathless.

'YOU WANT IT?'

"Please." 

"Kurloz," Meulin sounded a little annoyed above him as she worked his ponytail loose, "Don't tease him! He's not ready fur that."

Kurloz looked like he had a response to that, but his hands stopped mid-sentence as his eyes drifted down, peering right into Horuss' own. His eyes were gentle as ever, but there was an intensity to them that Horuss never really felt the brunt of until it was boring into him like this. Something just behind the lazy smile Horuss couldn't quite parse, even if his mind wasn't flooded with hormones and anxiety. The thought is gone the instant Kurloz lowered himself enough for Horuss' writhing bulge to slip inside Kurloz's nook. Horuss groaned, a hand flying to his mouth to stifle the noise as Kurloz took him inch by inch. They were right next to each other on the spectrum, yet the highblood was still so much cooler as he writhed inside him. Was he just as warm to Kurloz?

They found their rhythm far more easily than they had any right to; Kurloz took the lead, rolling his hips into Horuss, stroking his bulge in time to the motions. Every movement, every sudden thrash inside or groan he pulled from Kurloz left Horuss shaking, skin hot and pleasure pulsing through him like a beat. For most trolls, this was nothing; standard pailing, for the most part, but for Horuss it was on just this side of too much, and not just physically.

If Meulin hadn't been there, even as Kurloz bounced in his lap like it was second nature, Horuss wasn't sure he would have gone through with this. Wouldn't be able to handle it, if she weren't there right then, carding her fingers through his hair and stroking his cheek, telling him just how well he was doing, that he could handle it when he insisted it was too much, asking him if he wished to stop and he practically begged her not to end it. 

Kurloz released first, doesn't stop moving for even a second as he squeezed every last drop out of his bulge, purple coating Horuss' coat. His orgasm is almost modest, brows knit together and closed, his rumbling groan drowned out by Horuss' own noises, moaning from deep in his chest. The sight of the highblood releasing - on him, for him, because of him - has Horuss chasing his own end.

"Kurloz," His voice was raspy, weak with need, "I'm about to - well --"

Even now he couldn't just say it. The highblood just gave him another one of those smiles before pressing down and grinding *hard*, hard enough that Horuss couldn't stop from coming if he wanted to. He pressed his head back into Meulin's lap as he released inside Kurloz, heat pulsing from between his legs to the top of his head, eyes squeezed so tightly shut it almost hurt. 

Kurloz laid on top of him after pulling him out, as if they weren't covered in variouus disgusting juices. Horuss was, however, similarly exhausted and in no hurry to move.

"You did really great, Horuss," Meulin said, helping him down from his high.

"Ah, thank you?" He said, uncertain. He had never been complimented about his performance like that before, from a moirail. 

She just smiled down at him, easy as anything, "So would you want to do it again, sometime?"

"Maybe," He said. It certainly hadn't been nearly as mortifying as he thought it would be, and Kurloz was a lovely partner, but he wasn't quite sure this was something he was ready to commit to, "Can I think it over, when I've had time to think it over?"

Meulin nodded, "Of course! Don't worry about it right meow."

Despite himself, Horuss could feel sleep claiming him. He wanted to get up, clean up, but as neither of his companions seemed to mind the mess, neither did he, for the moment. It was fine, he supposed. A lot of things that might normally bother him just seemed so much less significant now, somehow, with Kurloz in his arms and Meulin playing with his hair.

Maybe this really had been a good idea, after all.


End file.
